


Sandman (Not That One)

by Psycho_Chiquita



Series: Repercussions of an Earworm Phenomena [2]
Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: Gen, Gore, Halloween, Horror, It's the end of the world, Violence tag is for violence against the undead, Zombies?, and Roxanne is pissed, with slight comedy relief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-09 19:45:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16456130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psycho_Chiquita/pseuds/Psycho_Chiquita
Summary: It's the end of the world and the lives of the survivors of Metro City rely heavily on two former villains and their boombox.





	Sandman (Not That One)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I'm back. I think.
> 
> It's been a tough year for us, not just me, and I don't think I can get in the groove of things fast enough to get back on track but shit that's not enough to deter me from trying.
> 
> However I will say I am sorry. I really hoped these massive stills in my mind would waver and die down at some point but they continue their lingering attack. I wouldn't even call them writer's block anymore since a block implies there was something coming through to begin with. But fudge it, this is my way of apologizing and I hope it comes through to help with this "block" I've been having. 
> 
> And just in time for Halloween, too!

* * *

**"Inspired by" songfic, no lyrics (although you can play the song at the chosen time when described)**

**Mood: Serious and Unsettling, breaking into calamity and borderline hilarity. There is a happy ending, but at a cost.**

**"Mister Sandman" by The Chordettes,** **Single** **, 1954**

**Alright, let's rock this joint!  
**

* * *

Those who witnessed their arrival, and survived the first waves of attack, claim they fell from the sky.

People didn't know what to do with them in the beginning. They looked, harmless, with their friendly forms and colorful pigmentation. What was one to expect from something so small and innocent?

The scientists who harbored the creatures didn't know what they fed off of at first when studying their behavior (or lack thereof). As far as they could tell these things didn't really have mouths. Or limbs.  
Or possibly conscious thought. If anything they more closely resembled marimo moss, which came to a surprise when one of the less experienced interns thought to feed one of the balls of fluff blood meal and it showed signs of positive reaction.

That should've been the first sign.

During a standard inner building transport one of the loading dock staff noticed the moss would shift erratically when its containment unit was stored adjacently to a cage of testing mice. Drawing curiosity, more testing was conducted on the reactive moss when placed within the confinements of a live animal, its soft fur-like coverage shifting to reveal long wisps that were eventually concluded to be feelers.

 _That_  was the first sign.

Proceeding with caution and following through the standard practice that came with handling a live and potentially dangerous biological threat, the moss balls were sent to be secured in a solitary lab set in a more desolate section of the research wing. Access was restricted to level III and only those with a double guarded suit were allowed to handle the creatures, ensuring they would not pick up the scent or vitals of living tissue underneath. As was such the progress of research proceeded without disturbance in the protection of the sectioned laboratory.

However all the safety defenses and containment precautions in the world could hold no measure of idiocy for the well-being of mankind. As was proven by one of the first responders to the scene of the landing site.

,:':,

In the shadow of downtown Metro City stood a six-story apartment complex, fifteen apartments per floor that housed the average single working individual with the exception of a young family on level four.

A few of the tenants had been milling around when the landlord trudged his way through the lobby trailing an EMT and the fire chief, a ring of keys jingling nervously in his hands. It had been at the least a week since anyone had heard from the young technician and the neighbors below his room had complained of a distinctive smell of molasses lingering in the air.

A couple of hesitant knocks and a hard shove of a wooden door later and the heavy smell of beet sugar attacked their senses, the only thing that was available to them in the dim and quiet apartment.

The chief took hesitant steps towards the center of the living area, cautious of the dead silence and weary of the dark corners as he called out to his subordinate.

"Moore?"

Receiving no response the fire chief turned on one heel to give a shrug of uncertainty towards the landlord and EMT standing in the kitchen entrance, waiting in the awkward silence when the sudden sound of shuffling and a thud drew their attention to the bedroom.

Being the closer responder, the chief moved in position to open the bedroom door where the sickly strong smell of sweetness clung to the heavy humidity that poured from the room.

The EMT will later recall thinking the firefighter must've been sick if the mounds of multivitamins and the humidifier being on full blast was anything to account for. He will also recall being unsettled by the thick coverage of overgrown plant life creeping up the bedroom walls, the leaves and stamens fluttering in the breeze.

And remember how there was no fan on.

Once the chief had walked into the room, the landlord following close behind, the EMT admittingly let his nerves get the best of him and planted himself firmly in the middle of the living room, bolting out the front door at the sounds of the first screams.

And that's how humanity was introduced to The Mass.

* * *

The physical competition was so sad, they were even given the opportunity to run on a few occasions. Which in case lead to the immediate dismemberment and disfiguration beyond recognition of what was once a living organism known under the binomial name of  _Homo Sapiens Sapiens._

Many instances the choices seemed trivial, a clearance on the field where the risk ran low and the prospect of freedom was too inane to ignore. In others the chances ran hazardous, a gap between waves of attacks or a brief opening in the fog of war and death that seemed to be a liberating opening.

Either ways, the option to escape was always overshadowed by the prospect of receiving the same results. Agonizing and reciprocating slaughter.

Out in the distance of the rising drafts of chemical smoke and rotting meat were the remnants of the city, destroyed within itself and fallen by the hands of righteous leaders sought to clarify their lands of its mistakes as god had leveled Sodom and Gomorrah.

Smells of molten iron and blood-stained lands, the deafening silence from the absence of sound within the once sprawling metropolis, the scenery shook the two beings standing on the edge of an abandoned warehouse roof overlooking what was once their domain in which they ran rampart, void of the civilians whom at a point would flee from their chaos and climactic actions.

With a kick of an empty shell casing from a reinforced boot, one of them muttered "So much for taking over the city," before they both made their way to check on the blockade they had set up earlier in the week.

Being a creature of habit the blue man did not let the despairing surroundings depress him, at least not to face value, and had summoned the energy to hoist himself over a battered city bus resting on its side which up to that morning had been in use as a barricade.

With the perimeter security breach throwing everyone within the confines of their refuge in a frenzy, The Overlord himself sought to clear the threat and patch up the barrier before the danger would prove their current location unsafe to keep as a sanctuary.

Although with the title of Overlord came the assumption there were individuals to order and a functioning civilization to rule.

With the swagger of someone preparing for a fight, The Overlord paced down the length of the bus from one end to the next, his right hand man standing aside with a duffle bag slung over one shoulder watching him attentively while keeping caution to the streets below them in case any of the Mass decided to make an early appearance.

"I think we should set up here, I have sights on the intersection up ahead and the alleys filter out in both directions leaving them with nowhere to head to in case they try to back-track. From this height I should be able to clear out any that might've made their way past the bus and we could work our way forward to secure the breach through the first barrier once they start trickling in."

"But Sir, this setting leaves you exposed by all sides and with all the sound we'll be making that's surely inevitable, they might not be known to climb but they can pile on each other pretty well-"

"In which case leaves more openings for someone else to take the shot if I get crowded, hence why  _you're_  here."

"I still don't like it," his henchman responded bitterly.

"Just set up the sound system, Minion."

The robotic suit moved mechanically as Minion brought the bag down from his shoulders to drop between his feet with a  _clemp._  The fishlike being eyed his boss with exasperated annoyance while going through the bag to pull a cylindrical speaker that stood at waist height when he bolted it to the side of the bus.

Uncoiling wires and pulling a laptop from a side slot, the henchman set to readying the sound system as the blue man took note from which direction the,  _things_ , might wobble from first.

The parasite was known to be attracted by the low pitch of rumbling thunder, as they had first witnessed during a late thunderstorm. However, they also seemed to be sensitive to the waves emitted by high soundwave frequencies to the point of being stunned, the Hz count lingering around the capacity of a burglar alarm.

Luckily for them, both The Overlord and Minion tolerate soundwaves at a much higher frequency, and The Overlord found it immensely useful to be able to layer the vibrations over a few of the songs on his "showtime" playlist.

After sighting-in his scope he looked over his shoulder towards Minion, giving him a sly smile with a nod for confirmation to start the song.

"Which one, Sir?"

He was in the midst of replying when his attention snapped back towards the streets, the sound of a guttural scream rising from a Mass.

"Shit. I guess we're going to have to start early," The Overlord said as the first of the parasite infested bodies loomed forward from their hiding spots, spotted trails of black and brown left behind each one as they rushed forward towards the source of another potential host.

He raised his scope to his eyes and immediately had one of the pulsating organic  _things_  in his crosshairs, readying position from his spot on the side of the bus.

"Sandman."

Minion began to type away furiously on his keyboard over the sounds of the gun going off in quick succession as his boss picked off a few of the hosts edging their way forward. He quickly dropped the gun to his side and gave a stabbing kick towards a Mass lingering under the edge of the bus before it could figure out how to climb over, then brought the gun back up to shoot off another couple of rounds into the creeping crowd ahead of them.

He slowed his shooting when the sound of static and clapping came over the speaker, then stopped shooting all together when he heard a-  _barbershop quartet_ he realized with disbelief, start singing in varying "bung's". He couldn't help his head rolling over to glare at Minion when the ladies started to sing.

"Not," he raised his gun and blindly shot out towards the horde, "- _that_  one."

"I'm sorry Sir! I have-, I have no idea how this,  _happened_ , I-I-"

"Change it!"

"I can't!"

"Why-"  _BAM_  "Why not?!"

"It says 'exe stopped working'."

"WHAT-" the blue man shouted sternly over shoulder, "how is that even-, it's a _song_ , not a program!"

He shot off a few frustrated rounds into a group of Mass rounding out a corner to their far left, coming out of one of the back alleys in groves. Once he whittled the group down to a few lone stragglers he set his focus on the ones pouring out of a shuttered mechanic store slightly to his right, his voice venting out over the song.

"How the hell did that one end up playing?"

"It's in order."

"What 'order' and  _why_  do we even  _have_  that song to begin with?!," he griped lowering the gun, trails of gunpowder smoke lingering off the chamber while he made a few adjustments and let it cool briefly from its moment of overheating.  
There were a lot more of the Masses than he was prepared to take on with just the two of them.

"We used it during a plot to create a serum for sedating Metro Man-, Sir you sure you don't want me to bring out any more muscle from the Lair? At least another form of firepower-"

"If those idiots hadn't put off the scavenge we-"  _BAM_  "-would have properly raided the military-"  _CLA-CLACK BAM_  "-military base and everyone would have a proper means to def-" _CLACK-BAM_ "-end themselves instead of some shitty ass twenty twos and a Barrett, which no one can figure out how to handle  _properly_ -"  _CLA-CLA-CLICK_

_CLICK-CLICK-CLICK_

He eyed his gun with hate, gritting his teeth at being so caught up in his anger to have ignored the signs his weapon was overheating drastically.

"You could've at least let Metro Man stay to help out," his henchfish muttered behind him, drawing a deeper scowl and adding napalm to the fire.

"Oh,  _Metromahn_ , I can't do without you, so helpless as the villain now the world has ended, save me," the blue man retorted in a mocking high pitched voice, his hands flailing around and fanning his face dramatically only briefly before the scowl returned to his face and he went off.

"That bumbleheaded buffoon wouldn't know how to save anyone that isn't surrounded by cameras, he's just as useless after civilization as he was back then trying to deter  _actual_  crime!"

"But at least he could help fend off the Masses!"

"I can do that on my own! He needs to help those that aren't lucky to have  _two_  supers!"

"That doesn't mean he couldn't have helped us regain control before he le- _SIR!"_  the extraterrestrial fish raised an arm to warn the angry villain of a Mass climbing over the edge of the bus, a few of its ribbon like tendrils from its head swinging around madly towards one of his booted feet.

He turned in time to side step the ribbons and crush them under-boot, lifting and swinging his leg again to connect with the shell of its head and send it sprawling over the mound of Masses on the side of the bus that had created during their exchange.

"Minion turn it off!" The Overlord shouted over the chiming-piano singing women and the buzzing growls from the Massive. He threw a coupled of hard jabbed kicks and knocked a few that made it to the top of the swarming pile. They seemed to find the song  _appealing._

"I'm trying! I _-GEH!"_

Turning towards his companion panic took over the slender blue alien, seeing a handful of Masses climbing over the mechanical suit he'd made him in their youth, their ribbons poking and prodding to find access into his holding tank.

Forgetting all about the strength the suit itself had from its power armor, The Overlord rushed to free his brother from the swarm trying to crush the suit. He had succeeded to incapacitate a couple when a third climbed over the edge of the bus and stumbled towards the blue alien with sluggish movements, throwing its weight onto the man's back and bringing him down to the glass siding of the bus.

"Get off me!" he cried out as he struggled against the hard casing surrounding the parasite hiding inside what used to be a human head, cocooned in layers of dried membrane and hardened tumors making it look similar to the shell of a walnut. And an old one too, judging by the strength of the casing.

"I said  _get OFF!"_  he cried with more uncontained panic, the ribbons unfurling themselves from within the casing and making their way towards the blue man's head and neck.

"MINION!"

The Mass imploded on itself, what would have been the partial lobe launching cleanly off the left side of its head in a cloud of maroon and black dust as the ribbons went limp and the dead weight fell on top of The Overlord.

A split second after the body dropped did he hear the telltale echo of a distant gunshot, followed by a couple more as Minion was freed from two of the four Masses that had overtaken him, giving him enough room to work on neutralizing the last two.

Still on his back, the blue alien tossed the body aside with a grunt while catching his breath, finally regaining control over his pulse to look over where the delayed  _crack_ 's came from.

Half a mile down their path with a squint of his eyes he caught glimpse of a dark figure huddled close to a rooftop adjacent to their lair, a hand shooting out from the darkness ending in a fist with a single middle digit raised towards his direction.

"You think she's still mad at me?" he muttered as Minion helped him regain his footing.

"I told you not anger Miss Ritchie, I'm pretty sure she's been watching ever since we left," Minion replied with a tone that was almost scolding.

"I'm sure she was just, setting her calculations and couldn't aid sooner. We don't all have the luxury of taking time to do adjustments on an oversized 50 cal," his boss offered as an excuse, his attention taken up by checking on his gun.

The sudden pass of a  _thiss_  by his blue ear combined with a ripping burn and a  _thud_  of a Mass collapsing behind them was her reply.

"Nope, she's still mad," Minion replied smugly.

The Overlord gripped his left ear with a hiss. "How the hell did she know what I was saying?!"

"You still have your earpiece on you blue moron," her voice suddenly manifested inside his right ear making him jump slightly, Minion restraining a snicker as his boss tried to burn him down with a glare.

"For the love of Hodr just change the damn song already."

**Author's Note:**

> At the cost of his ear, happy ending with a not so happy Roxanne.
> 
> Oliver had asked why Roxanne was mad. I said knowing her and their relationship, it could've been anything from Megamind being a hero when she didn't want him to, to maybe he forgot to put down the toilet seat.
> 
> So, there you have it, I hope you guys enjoyed it. It was actually fun brainstorming this one with hbthing (he was the one that came up with the "competition" sentence, I asked if it was okay to use since he does writing of his own as well) and I came )THIS( close to abandoning the story, even about to scrap it at one point only to spill the rest of the words out the next day. I haven't had this much flow in a while so It's been a little wavy getting my steps aligned.
> 
> The idea came during an exchange with a friend over how funny it seemed to me that the common element when it comes to music and Megamind is that he's a fan of Enter Sandman by Metallica, as well as combined with the occasional occurrence that whenever I try to look up a specific song in my library my laptop insists I meant x instead of y ("This Charming Man" "Semi Charmed Life" and "Charmless Man" is one that happens WAY too often).
> 
> I'll be back soon though, loves, I promise.
> 
> Love and Misery,  
> -P.C.


End file.
